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I wonder if we’re going to his bedroom…
And despite the dull headache that remained, a pool of heat formed low in my belly. The idea of being alone with Beck in his bedroom excited me. In all those years since our night together, I hadn’t longed for a man the way I had him.
In fact, quite the opposite. A few days after our romp together, I’d adopted a sober lifestyle and licked my wounds, not just the emotional ones left behind by Beck’s disappearance but by the man that cameafter. The one who I didn’t want and yet he took something from me without asking.
That loss of control was something I could never forget and never forgive. It was why all of my bars had a code for women and anyone else that felt uncomfortable or uneasy. To make sure what happened to me didn't happen to the happy people who patronized Club Deux. It was also why I made sure to offer free self-defense lessons for staff and had strip tests readily available for people to test their drinks for date rape drugs.
All these safety measures made Club Deux the most popular place to party for women and LGBTQIA clientele. Creating that safe space was essential and part of my mission as a business owner in hospitality.
I may never feel able to have fun and experiment in a way I once did, but I wanted to reduce as much risk as I could for others.
Beck carried me into a bedroom. Probably not his since the floral decor screamed guest bedroom. Without losing his grip on me, he lifted the corner of the comforter and slid me into the luscious satiny sheets.
“Stay here. I’ll get you some water and call your doctor.”
The man slipped out of the room, and I immediately felt the loss of his presence. My eyelids grew heavy, and I fell fast asleep.
CHAPTER17
Beck
The secondI saw Faith’s name flash across my phone screen, I knew something was wrong. While she occasionally texted in a group chat with Sebastian, Faith had never used my phone number despite having given it to her numerous times, including when I was hired to protect her from the overzealous paparazzi.
I excused myself when the call came through, passing off the team meeting to my second-in-command to finish facilitating our strategy for the next big gig: protecting celebrity clients at an upcoming festival in the California desert.
“What’s wrong?” I answered.
“It’s Luna. We were on the phone, and she was complaining about her head hurting when just seconds earlier she said that she was coming to visit me. I don’t think she feels okay and I’m too far away to check. Are you home? Can you stop by?”
My steps quickly swallowed the distance between the conference room and the exit. “Already on my way. ETA is…” I glanced down at my watch. “Twelve minutes.” At this time of day, I’d have to fight through some congestion on the sidewalks, but I’d lived in the city a long time. I knew how to navigate the town regardless of the time of day. It wasn’t worth trying to flag down a taxi; I’d just waste time sitting in the car.
For the second time in the span of a week I’d barged into Luna’s house. This was a pattern I wasn’t fucking enjoying.
And when I brought her upstairs I damn near set her on my own bed, remembering only at the last second how inappropriate that would be.
She zonked out the second her head hit the guest pillow. I’d had Luna’s doctor on speed dial since the day she entered the hospital. Adrenaline surged in my body as I waited for someone to answer my call. Luna wasn’t in any imminent danger and yet my body reacted viscerally as if waiting for the next shoe to drop.
“Thank you for calling the office of Doctor…” fucking voicemail.
I left a message and called Faith to let her know that I was with her friend. In usual Faith form, she demanded regular updates. “Don’t make me come out there.”
Faith did confirm that Luna had taken the migraine medicine. She seemed much more together than the last time I found her passed out over the toilet. That likely meant she’d caught it in time.
Still, it unnerved me to think of what might have happened if Faith hadn’t been on the phone with Luna.
I pinched my brow. “Fuck.”
My phone started blowing up with text messages. Some from the office asking where I’d rushed off to. Some from Sebastian.
I took a closer look at the one from Sebastian.
Sebastian:
Harrison Barnes wants me in London TOMORROW.
Sebastian
Fuck, I thought I had more time. I know this is extreme, but can you come and look after Faith while I’m gone? The insane press has died down, but I still don’t fully trust them not to track her down.